


Archangel Babysitter

by radstiels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radstiels/pseuds/radstiels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeding a prophet is harder than it looks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Archangel Babysitter

**Author's Note:**

> Just some drabble I wrote one day. What I think would happen if Gabriel was given the responsibility of looking after Kevin.

Hours. It’s been hours.

Well, it’s kinda normal to have such long periods of time wherein Kevin doesn’t speak, eat, drink or /move/, but today it particularly irked him. He always tried his best to get the prophet to eat proper foods, make him go to bed early, and shower regularly. The teen was at first very stubborn, but the angel was slowly wearing him down. Slowly. It took less and less effort each time to make him do these things, and he was grateful.

“Hey, Kev,” called Gabriel from his luxurious, snapped-up armchair. He was slouching in it, letting the cushion swallow him up with his legs over one side. He pushed himself up and brought his legs in underneath him, so he was sitting in a cross-legged position. 

Kevin didn’t answer. Some band Gabriel didn’t know continued to blare through the prophets’ headphones as his neck craned at an awkward angle over his beloved tablet. The angel rolled his golden eyes, and snapped his fingers. 

The music stopped. Kevin sighed, dropped his pen, pulled his now silent headphones down to rest on his shoulders, and glared at Gabriel with tired eyes. 

“What?” The ebony-haired teen’s voice was a little dry from not talking for hours. And pissed ‘cos Gabriel cut his music. 

He longed for the day that Kevin’s dark circles and malnourished skin were gone. “You hungry?” Questioned the archangel, sitting up straight and stretching his arms. “I think it’s high time you had some lunch. Or dinner. You know you’ve been sitting on your ass for five and a half hours? I didn’t even know that was humanly possible.”

Kevin responded by rolling his eyes. “Not hungry.” He knew, after living with Gabriel for so long, that the conversation wasn’t over, so he didn’t bother try ignoring Gabe. His mom voice was due any time soon.

“Bullshit, Kevin Tran.” 

And there it was. 

Although Gabriel said it with a hint of a smirk in his voice (nearly everything he said did), he sounded stern enough to almost sound concerned. 

“It’s- what? 6 pm? You’ve been up since 10 am, and you’ve eaten one hot dog between then and now.” Gabriel held up an index finger for emphasis, finally standing and walking around to face Kevin. “/One/. How do you even live on that?” He pressed his palms to the table and dipped his head a little, trying to meet Kevin’s dark brown eyes.   
Kevin looked away, instead shrugging and eyeing the tablet. “I don’t move a lot. Don’t need a lotta food.”

Gabriel let out a long, drawn-out moan. “You’re /unbelievable/, proffie.” The angel leaned forward and, even though he was trying to be scolding, ruffled Kevin’s recently washed black hair. 

A hand swatted at him. “Stop that.”

The arch booped his nose. 

“QUIT IT!”

He didn’t jump. Instead, Gabriel just sighed. “You need to lay off those pills, Judy Moody. It’s feeding time. What do you want?”

“Nothing!” Kevin whined, rubbing his face. “Get off my case, I’m fine.”

“You won’t be in a couple days if you keep up this crap. You’re lucky I’m going to the huge trouble of giving you any food you want.” With a snap of his fingers, the dark haired angel held up a notepad and pen. Adopting a waiter-like posture, Gabriel continued. “What would you like for your starter, Mr. Tran?” 

Looking up, the black-haired prophet rolled his eyes so hard he probably hurt them. “/No-thing/.” The prophet looked about to tattoo the word onto Gabriel’s forehead. 

“If you keep this shit up I’ll just zap chewed food /into/ your stomach,” threatened his guardian, spinning the pen between four fingers. This kid was so undernourished; it’s surprising to the angel that he hadn’t been admitted to hospital yet. After he took his position at Head Babysitter of the Moody Prophet, Gabriel had been keeping an eye on what he was taking into his system, and from the looks of it, it was just hotdogs. /Occasionally/. And coffee. The thoughts of doing that consistently made him want to puke. And /he/ ate nothing but /candy/.

He got a disgusted face as a reply. “Eugh, what the fuck, Gabe?”

Inwardly, Gabriel smiled at the nickname. He tapped the notepad, smiling because he knew he’d one this round. “Then order something, you little shit.”

Kevin shrugged. “I dunno. Kale?”

“Seriously?” replied Gabriel, chuckling. “I meant, you know, a /meal/? Do you still know what that word /means/, Kev?”

“Shut up.” Kevin leaned back in his chair and stretched a little himself. Gabriel only stared in case the other leaned too far back in his chair and fell off and… Died, or something. He wasn’t looking at him because of the good inch of exposed, tanned stomach that showed itself because of the prophet’s shirt riding up or anything. 

“As long as I don’t have to cook it, I’ll eat just about anything.”

Gabriel dragged his eyes away at the last second, and threw them up to Heaven. “You coulda just said that at the start. Saved me a lot of time.”

\--------------------

“Pizza? Really?”

The youngest archangel zapped all of Kevin’s work away, plus the tablet, and put the plate full of large, expensive cuisine onto his desk while the teen swore loudly.   
“It’s quality Italian food, you picky bitch, so eat up.”

“MY FUCKING WORK!”

He used telekinesis to move his chair around and across the opposite side of Kev’s desk.

“-Will be back once you eat. Swear.” When Kevin still looked both ready to strangle and have a heart attack simultaneously, Gabriel sighed and set down the slice he picked up. “Cross my grace.” He made a small ‘x’ with the tip of his right index finger over the pit of his stomach, gesturing to where the majority of his grace resided.

Rolling his eyes was such a natural response from Kevin these days. “Whatever. S’long as I get it back…” He picked up a slice and took the first bite. When he swallowed, he asked, “Hey, any garlic sauce?”

“Oh yeah.” The sound of fingers snapping and a bottle of it stood next to Kevin near their fifteen-inch, genuine Italian pizza. 

“Coke?” Asked Kevin through his food.

“Of course.” An ice-cold 2-litre appeared in the blink of an eye.

Gabriel was too fixated on pulling some stringy cheese that hung from his bottom lip out to see that Kevin closed his hand around the neck before him. When his hand finally reached its destination, he looked up, glanced from their weird hand-embrace to Kevin’s features, and squinted. 

“I get first pour, kid.”

“Don’t be a bitch, I got there first.” Kevin gave a determined tug, but Gabriel laughed when it didn’t move the slightest.

“Angel beats human~” he gave a shit-eating grin, waggled his eyebrows and pulled the bottle halfway across to him. 

Kevin stood up and swatted with his free hand. “Give it to me, Gabe!” He growled. The golden eyed angel gave in at the nickname, and eyed the prophet as he smirked and poured his own glass with a triumphant smile. 

“Why do you hit me all the time?” asked Gabriel, genuinely curious and a little hurt. He picked up a second slice and began eating as Kev took a huge gulp of soft drink. 

“It’s /fun/,” Kevin smirked and pointed to the bottle. “And I get what I want when I do. You poke the shit out of my nose, and you lay off when I hit you. And you let me have the Coke when I hit you, too.”

Gabriel pouted with a full mouth. He gulped it down and replied, “It’s rude though. And I’m way stronger than you and could swat your hand off completely if I felt like it.”

The teen shook his head, continuing to smile. Gabriel liked that smile a lot. It was so unused and rare. “Nah, you won’t.”

“Oh?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow, challenging as he finished his slice and poured himself some Coke. He was slightly shocked at Kevin’s blind faith in him. “Really? Why not?”

“’Cos,” Kevin shrugged, “You’re /my/ archangel. You’re protecting me. You’d never hurt me.”

Gabriel ignored the faint, flattered feeling he got. “And here I thought you had trust issues. But why would you hurt your own little pet archangel, hm?” He gave fake puppy dog eyes, pressing his hand to his chest, “I don’t ever hurt /my/ little prophet.”

“Same reason.” Gabriel could swear Kevin’s voice was… Different when he replied, but he let it go. It was probably because he was finally starting to taste some real food for the first time in forever.


End file.
